


Just a Dash of Hope

by smolder



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-16 23:18:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1365370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolder/pseuds/smolder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“There is a place – another dimension – that does not view prophesy in the same manner we have done. There is no inevitability – they fight the Fates. And,” she looked positively dumfounded, “they have often won.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. chapter one: beyond reach

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SongBirdie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongBirdie/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Teen Titans belongs to DC (although this is the cartoon version of things) and BtVS/Angel belongs to Joss Whedon.  
> Warnings/Spoilers: Post-Birthmark for Teen Titans and Post-Series for both Buffy and Angel  
> A/N: This is a Challenge fic (7886: Raven gets some help) for the lovely SongBirdie whom I have always loved talking to (and writing for) in the past. I am writing form memory (and wiki recaps of things) so I apologize if I have a few things a bit off.) Hope you like it!  
> A/N 2: Reviews are Good. This has been a subtle hint from the author - Please return to your regularly scheduled reading.

_Robin._  
  
He comes awake suddenly with the sound of his own name said firmly in his mind. And Robin supposes he should be startled to see her perched there upon the edge of his bed in the middle of the night but honestly – who else could it be? Because of the bond between their minds he is always very aware of her presence, and while that closeness should be scary to one like him, brought up by someone as intensely paranoid as Batman, instead it's almost comforting.  
  
 _Yes, Raven?_ he responds back teasingly knowing she'll mentally pick it up, but she doesn't even smile – he doesn't even feel a hint of her amusement. She simply stares at him for a long moment, and it is then that he starts to worry, then that unease over the oddity of this situation curls in his gut. He is still oddly aware of her fragility since her birthday - has nightmares of getting there seconds late: just in time to watch her fall, smash upon the ground. And even though he caught her: hair long, clothes in tatters, and those marks like brands on her pale skin - there had been a shaken look in Raven's eyes that held a difference far greater then any of the outward ones ( _not broken but bruised - badly - on the inside where it was much harder to heal_ ), that had made Robin hate Slade more then he _ever_ has before.  
  
“I have to leave, Robin,” she says out loud this time, scattering his morbid thoughts, her deep purple eyes impossibly solemn.  
  
“Leave?” he blurts the words, sitting up abruptly, trying to stay calm, not to simply panic as a part he now hopes she can't hear just repeats on a loop: please don't go. _No; no, not you too. Please, don't leave us. Don't leave me._  
  
“I received a message from Azarath. It was urgent,” she does not plead – her voice remains monotone – but he can still read in her that she wants him to understand this. That this is something that she does not necessary _want_ to do, she _needs_ to. And Robin understands loyalty to a place, to a people, you have long since left – know that one phone call would have him off to Gotham.   
  
So he swallows down what he wants to say and simply asks, “When will you be going?”  
  
“Now,” is her one word response and she stands to leave right then. a portal forming on his formally plain grey wall. “Tell the others goodbye for me,” and again her tone does not change, only his link to her gives Robin enough information to worry.  
  
“Wait,” he yells after her and she looks over her shoulder back at him, while she is already half way through the swirling darkness “when will you be back, Raven?”  
  
But she does not hear or chooses not to answer - either way her shadows curl behind her and the portal closes, cutting her off from his eyes. Leaving him behind in a room utterly alone.  
  
 _You are coming back? Aren't you, Raven?_ his mind whispers, but again there is no answer, she is already to far beyond his reach.


	2. chapter two: headlong flight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Teen Titans belongs to DC (although this is the cartoon version of things) and BtVS/Angel belongs to Joss Whedon.  
> Warnings/Spoilers: Post-Birthmark for Teen Titans and Post-Series for both Buffy and Angel  
> A/N: This is a Challenge fic (7886: Raven gets some help) for the lovely SongBirdie whom I have always loved talking to (and writing for) in the past. I am writing form memory (and wiki recaps of things) so I apologize if I have a few things a bit off.) Hope you like it!  
> A/N 2: Reviews are Good. This has been a subtle hint from the author - Please return to your regularly scheduled reading.

She is beginning to tire; the searching began a few weeks ago now - but this all started a few months before that it seems with those dreams.   
  
To truly trace it back, Raven knows that you would have to go all the way in time to a young Angela Roth who got caught up with some occultist, not truly knowing how real their ceremonies were. Not knowing rebelling against her parents would spiral into going to a demon summoning that actually called upon a _real_ being.   
  
A demon to which she was sacrificed – bound to and offered up. Not her _life_ but her _body_. A horror that kept going when she realized she was pregnant with the spawn of that being.   
  
Angela had tried to kill herself then but the monks of Azarath had found her; brought her to their temple between dimensions for protection and healing.  
  
And although Raven has often angsted over the years, over the very fact that she was even born (especially after she became cognizant of the Prophesy), she never blamed her Mother for it. The former Angela, now dubbed Arella, did enough self-flagellation for the both of them.   
  
In truth, it actually made her rather protective of the woman in a way. Which was one of the reasons she was quick to come when the missive had arrived.  
  
“Your letter indicated it was urgent,” Raven said once they were both seated at the small table in Arella's simple room for tea. Neither had hugged or exchanged tearful greeting even though it had been years since they had seen each other in person. Their relationship had always been skewed though, neither expressed much emotion, - and, in order to control her powers, Raven had been brought up more by the monks then by her Mother. And although she would always love her, she had never felt particularly close to the woman with whom she shared such similar looks.  
  
The elder purple haired woman set down her own tea. “It has started – has it not? On your birthday?”  
  
Raven's hands tensed remembering: her friends being bashed around so badly that she had to stop time to save them, Slade chasing her ( _fleeing fleeing fleeing – never any real chance to fight – and not able to get away_ ), the helpless feeling ( _shame and fear_ ) when he ripped her cape and leotard from her body - that she always kept so carefully covered - and burning red birthing marks shinned through her skin, the horrible vision, then being tossed like a rag doll and falling ( _almost hoping to just crash upon the ground and die – ending this now_ ) and being caught by Robin at the last minute.  
  
“Yes,” is all she says staring down into her tea, “it has started.”  
  
“There – there is – is a hope,” Arella stutters uncharacteristically – and both what she is saying and her odd hesitance make Raven look up.  
  
She smiles at her daughter in a slightly self-deprecating manner. “I am aware we have always viewed the Prophesy surrounding your birth as inevitable. I thought it was better that way – that it was always pointless to fight it, to have false hope. _But_ ,” here she hesitates again before continues and Raven feels rapt, feels as if her entire existence is hinging on this point, “nearly all of Azarath has been dreaming - _I_ have been dreaming,” Arella admits.  
  
“Tell me, Mother,” she demands, fiercely, and the table is outlined in black but neither of them acknowledge it.  
  
“There is a place – another dimension – that does not view prophesy in the same manner we have done. There is no inevitability – they _fight_ the Fates. And,” she looked positively dumfounded, “they have often _won_.”  
  
Raven simply breathed deeply for awhile taking this in (the table returning to it's usual color as her power retreated).  
  
“Raven,” Arella interrupted her after a few moments of quite. “The monks think you might be able to find this place. They think that if you ask, these people might help you - might save our Earth from Him.”  
  
And from there it was not an easy search – how could it possibly be? The only thing she had to go on was the dreams the other Azarathians showed her when they voluntarily shared minds. But a mental resonance of a place is not a road map and there are an infinite number of dimensions (new ones being created and destroyed every moment.)  
  
It is a hope though - a flickering uneasy hope - where previously there was none. And so Raven flies through the darkness, opening herself up to the echoes, trying to find the right...  
  
...was that? Was she just imagining it after all this time?  
  
Resolutely Raven follows the lead though and the feeling becomes stronger. And then with a nod of her head she forms a portal - propelling herself from this empty space headlong into...  
  
...a large library. There is a girl with long brown hair at a table covered with books who looks surprised at her entrance, moments before an alarm starts to blare. The room fills with people - mostly women she notes tiredly.  
  
But it has been a long time since she last ate - and much longer since she slept - and although she wishes to make a good first impression upon this dimension, to plead her case, all Raven is able to say before she passes out is, "Help - please."  
  
At least she was concise.


	3. chapter three: ain't fairy dust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Teen Titans belongs to DC (although this is the cartoon version of things) and BtVS/Angel belongs to Joss Whedon.  
> Warnings/Spoilers: Post-Birthmark for Teen Titans and Post-Series for both Buffy and Angel  
> A/N: This is a Challenge fic (7886: Raven gets some help) for the lovely SongBirdie whom I have always loved talking to (and writing for) in the past. I am writing form memory (and wiki recaps of things) so I apologize if I have a few things a bit off.) Hope you like it!  
> A/N 2: Reviews are Good. This has been a subtle hint from the author - Please return to your regularly scheduled reading.

Dawn stared at the young woman in a crumpled heap of dark blue cape and purple hair on the floor, separated from her only by a wide table full of books. She appeared rather young (a teenager by the looks of it), young and completely worn out.  
  
No one had approached her – the half a dozen Slayers ( _all juniors – or "Newbies" - the dormitories in the Council were down the hall from the library_ ) had circled but kept a fair distance from the unconscious being; many more would probably have been attracted by the alarm if this time of night didn't mean that a majority were out on patrol.  
  
And, although she knew she needed to soon, Dawn was in no place to give any direction yet. She was still trying to get her own heart to start beating calmly again. Though, for her, it had been the _portal_ and not the _person_ \- despite the fact that she was clearly not human judging by the color of her eyes, hair and skin - that startled her so badly.  
  
 _Frightened_ her so badly, if she were honest.  
  
But she thought that was a valid fear – portals and her had had a pretty bad relationship in the past after all. ( _Quite a few members of the Council could make that claim actually_.)  
  
Dawn took a deep, steadying, breath. “Did you call the others?” she asked the group as a whole, gesturing to the inter-house line on the wall of the room ( _much of their home (/castle) was not very welcoming to cell phone connections – thick solid stone wasn't very forgiving of such things. It was something their tech people were working on._ ).  
  
Abayomi, a petite African Slayer, nodded her head hard, eyes never moving from the intruder the whole time she spoke. “Phoned Andrew,” she stated, in accented but clear English. “He said Willow shoulda felt the disturbance of the wards but he's callin' Devon anyway in case they have her in deep mediation to deal with matters on another plane. Again,” her lips quirked at the last word. Although young, Abayomi had been Called a few years ago, and had become rather old hat dealing with the Scoobies and their quirks.  
  
“Good,” Dawn sighed, relaxing slightly, able to think a bit more clearly now. No offense to the Slayers – and all of their brute strength (it worked extremely effectively in many situations) – but she'd rather have magical back up if they were dealing with someone who could wield portals.  
  
“Don't know why we're waiting around. We should just kill her now while we have the opportunity,” she heard one of the newer Slayers (so new she hadn't had a chance to learn her name yet) mutter, with a scowl on her face. “The chick feels like a demon. You all know you feel it too,” she implored the other Slayers, her short bob of ash blonde hair flying around her face as she turned her head.  
  
“And we feel like demons too when shakin hands with a lot of empaths or white witches that haven't met our kind before,” Faith pointed out from the doorway before anyone else could respond, making the girl jump (and wonder how long she had been lurking there). “Or are you forgetting where the First Slayer's power came from, Jen? I'm not sayin the Shadow Men gave her much of a choice to have a demon imbued into her being – they didn't give her _any_. You all got to Choose much more then Sineya ever did. But don't get on some fucking high horse about demons - we tell you Newbies from the _beginning_ what the First Slayer went through. And even if you've been kicked in the head to many times during training, ya gotta know that the Power we all have to fight baddies had to come from _somewhere_. And it sure as hell ain't fair dust.”  
  
The Junior Slayer just looked down, flushing in shame at being called out by a Slayer _far_ more dominant then her – in age, experience and skill.  
  
Faith sighed and shook her head, “Just get out of here – all of you. Go back to bed or whatever. I'll watch the girl with Dawn until we get some magical backup to figure this shit out.” And Dawn was almost amused at how quickly the girls scattered.  
  
“You alright there then, Dawn?” Faith asked as she traversed the room, and the younger Summers was touched by the fact that she asked when none of the others had bothered. Although the Newbies were less aware of her history and simply viewed her as someone in charge of the Research Department, one of the Head Council Members.  
  
“Five by five,” she responded with a quirk of her lips and the other brunet snorted, eyes trained on the third person in their midst. “She asked for help before she fainted – and she looks tired,” Dawn noted, in a leading tone.  
  
She saw Faith smirk, “If you want to say something, D – just say it.”  
  
“I feel bad leaving her on the floor like that when she might be hurt or in trouble,” Dawn admitted. “Even if it turns out she's evil - do you think we can keep an eye on her somewhere she won't wake up being in serious need of a chiropractor?”  
  
“Well we can't stop watching her until we have more information about where she's from and what she really wants - but you have that couch in the office, right?” Dawn nodded the affirmative. “I can set her on that and just hang around, all comfy like, until Red shows up.” Upon making the decision Faith walked swiftly up to the girl and picked her up, seemingly without hesitation, but Dawn was rather aware, from prior experience (as well as stories from the others) that nothing was as simple as it may seem with the Dark Slayer. She would most likely, currently be carrying, multiple weapons on her and be able to access them quickly at any sign of danger from the person in her arms.  
  
Unexpectedly though, Faith frowned and glanced over as she walked, “She's way light Dawn – and I doubt it's just her species or whatever. See if Andrew can bring up some food.” At her, probably rather obvious look of surprise, Faith gave a huff of irritation. “It's the Scooby run Council - we're giving asylum or at least just questioning the girl, either way having her faint on us again because she's weak from being so fucking hungry isn't going to help.”  
  
Dawn hid her smile as she made the call, Fatih acted tough – and still was in many ways – but she had a large heart (even if she would hate for such things to be common knowledge).  
  
Once she was done with that task ( _and had - with as much patience as possible - answered many questions from a curious Andrew_ ) she grabbed the large old tome she had been searching through before the unexpected visitor had dropped in via portal, and joined Faith in her office to watch and wait. The team in Sydney needed this information on voonoos ( _basically a variation of the drop bears that had been giving them trouble least year - but these were faster moving with forked serpentine tongues and poisonous fangs_ ) as soon as possible after all.


	4. chapter four: veneer of calm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Teen Titans belongs to DC (although this is the cartoon version of things) and BtVS/Angel belongs to Joss Whedon.  
> Warnings/Spoilers: Post-Birthmark for Teen Titans and Post-Series for both Buffy and Angel  
> A/N: This is a Challenge fic (7886: Raven gets some help) for the lovely SongBirdie whom I have always loved talking to (and writing for) in the past. I am writing form memory (and wiki recaps of things) so I apologize if I have a few things a bit off.) Hope you like it!  
> A/N 2: Reviews are Good. This has been a subtle hint from the author - Please return to your regularly scheduled reading.

  
Willow had felt the tear in the dimensional wall right away.  
  
Not that it had been particularly harsh – this portal into her world seemed neat, precise - rather _practiced_ actually. But her senses were on alert for any activity of this sort ( _ever since she had learned to distinguish what it felt like to her magic anyway_ ), always tense for the possibility of another like Glory. ( _Another that might try to tear her family apart; might almost succeed. Years on, they were all still bruised from that encounter, still harshly aware of the mistakes they had made before, during, and after the encounter with the hell-goddess_.)  
  
The portal was especially apparent from the height she was at – not that other planes were higher, perse – but with her soul self being separate from all the other stimulus that made Earth so very alive, viewing the lines of energy was a rather simple task.   
  
And therefore, it was easy to tell when they were unnaturally _parted_.  
  
The two with her had felt it as well. A sorceress who had been alive many hundreds of years ago and a (mostly benign) demon who appeared to be a cousin of sorts to Pyleans. The two had been making such a ruckus in the spiritual plane with their arguments that the Devon Coven had called her to try to sort it out. ( _Willow was starting to think they had set it all up though. She had been asked to deal with each of them separately on different occasions, and she knew from past experiences like this, that sometimes spirits just got lonely_.) At the “noise” though all conversation stopped, and the three of them stilled, feeling the direction it had come from.  
  
“West,” Leon, the demon murmured, scratching at his teal skin, his burgundy eyes squinting in thought. They all were aware that he meant west from where Willow's body currently was, the place they were currently conversing had no actual physical location.  
  
“I think it's the Council,” Willow said, trying to push down panic – the main Slayer teams would be out on patrol right now. “I can't feel my wards up here,” she hissed in frustration.  
  
“Go,” the sorceress, Jasmine,” said firmly with a gentle hand. “We will see you at another time.” She shared a look with Leon and her lips quirked, “We aren't going anywhere after all.  
  
“Alright,” she said distractedly but then the words registered and Willow paused momentarily, looking back at the two. “And guys, how about next time I just come visit in my dreams? I think the Coven is getting a bit frustrated with you and we don't want one of the new girls trying an exorcism the next time you two make a ruckus just so the three of us can chat.”  
  
  
***  
  
Back in her body, she concentrated on her feet - making sure they traveled through the hallways of the Council castle at a swift, but _unagitated_ , pace. Willow was trying very hard not to simply run to the Library were Andrew had told her their inter-dimensional “visitor” was lying unconscious with Dawn and Faith. She couldn't really allow herself the luxury of doing so though, unless it truly was an attack in progress. It would honestly cause stress to the younger Slayers, who saw her almost as a Mother figure ( _something about the fact that she Called them, Giles and her thought_ ) – and those older eyes that she could sense watching her from the rooms she passed ( _the left over Watchers from the past regime that had a tendency to be a bit twitchy_ ). She was one of the co-heads of this organization the Scoobies had re-formed after all, and so she projected confidence as much as possible.   
  
Her nose scrunched up at the sudden thought of her father figure ( _and really friend as well by this point_ ) though. Giles, she was basically the equivalent of _Giles_ to these people. ( _He was currently in Australia with Buffy - having some quality Watcher/Slayer time and checking in on some of the young women who didn't want to stay with them after initial training. In general, they seemed to appreciate the yearly rounds. Internet communication was one thing but face to face really helped make them feel like they weren't alone._.) And although the authority chafed at times, Willow also felt pride at the new organization (from the ashes of the old) she and the other Scoobies had managed to create for the Slayers.  
  
Keeping a veneer of calm was doubly hard at the moment though, because she was also rather frustrated with Devon Coven at the as well. The wards – _her_ wards - on their castle ( _and that never stopped sounding weird_ ), their home, had been breached. Her friends – her _family_ – could have possibly been in danger ( _with their track record it was actually more of a probability_ ) and they _did not_ alert her when Andrew had called, saying this, and asking _specifically_ for her to come right away. She would not have even have been alerted to the breach, maybe for _hours_ with how Jasmine and Leon could get to talking, if she had not felt the dimensional disturbance, herself, while in the other realm.  
  
The problem was, she knew, that those who had not worked with the Scoobies previously usually did not think the rumors amongst the supernatural community about them were actually true. People did not wish to believe that a group so young had gone up against so much, and become so powerful, in the relatively short amount of time they had.   
  
And it was one of those sorts that had answered the phone when Andrew called. Carla, was a witch who held little power, but took pride in the great history of the Coven – she thought of the Scoobies as upstart children _playing_ at fighting demons. Any story she heard from the other witches ( _especially those ladies who actually knew, the ones who had helped her so much during her recovery_ ) of averted apocalypse she took as just that, a _story_ – a greatly exaggerated tale.  
  
She had listened to the boy on the phone with disdain. Tapped her pen as he prattled on about some sort of girl appearing - _as if that had actually happened_ \- and debated even writing a note. Eventually she just rolled her eyes and sweetly told him she would pass on the message - never intending to even bring such nonsense up.  
  
Willow shouldn't know all of this - she hadn't been there at the time of the call after all - but all of it was within her mind regardless. She had gotten better at reigning in her simply stupid amount of power over the years, but the more heightened her emotional state, the stronger her magic reacted - and she had been rather.... _frustrated_ upon returning to her body. And her anger, paired with her need for information, caused her magic to seek it out - regardless of where (or within whom) it was held.   
  
And after she received that information...Willow was having a hard time feeling bad about her accidental mental intrusion.  
  
Finally pushing open the Library doors she felt herself relax at the site of the rows of old tomes, the large tables full of books. Faith poked her head out of Dawn's Office, smirking she opened her mouth to make a comment but then her expression changed, "Lookin' pretty pissed, Red."  
  
Willow sighed as she reached the Slayer and they both entered the small but nicely furnished room, "Witch at coven was being...."  
  
"...a _witch_?" Dawn offered, not looking up from where she was still steadily typing on her computer.   
  
"I think I should be insulted," Willow murmured in a mock whisper to Faith.   
  
The other woman nodded solemnly, "I think that's what the intent was. But really, it was so on the nose that I actually feel a little embarrassed for little D."   
  
"Shut up," the girl in question pouted, still not looking up from her work but they could tell she was fighting off a grin.  
  
Sharing a smile at the small triumph - no matter how old and competent she was now, keeping Dawn feeling safe while they figured out the intentions of someone who wielded portal magic was one of her priorities. Speaking of...  
  
Willow turned and really looked at the girl for the first time: purple hair, leotard, cape, and all - and then saw her move.  
  
"Faith," she hissed, "her hand."  
  
Looking over the brunette just nodded after they both saw another small twitch. "Yeah, I saw her do that a few times - but she hasn't opened her eyes yet so I figured she must be dream..."   
  
She stopped abruptly when those eyes did open, blinking at the ceiling before dropping down to survey the room.


End file.
